“They look like they’ve been there all day.” Connor slumped in his seat. No one needed to confirm it.
The carriage halted and the door was opened. Sergeant Ferris climbed out first, wearing a hard scowl as he touched the sword at his hip. He gave a wary look around, then motioned for the others to emerge. Connor, Carl, Kevin, and Theresa. Once they were out, I scooted toward the door.
The thunder of voices crescendoed as the line of people waiting to enter the cathedral watched me emerge from the carriage. Their cries slowly shifted into a recognizable chant.
“Wraith queen! Flasher queen! Wraith queen!”
A few chanted “Black Knife!” instead, but they were the minority. Most shoved their fists into the air.
The Ospreys surrounded me, while Sergeant Ferris took the rear as we walked up the steps, past the first groups of people. Their chanting continued, and several reached out as though to touch me.
My heart thrummed and my hands slipped to my hips for daggers, but all I felt was silk and wool. I breathed through a surge of panic. Even unarmed, I could defend myself. There was nothing to be afraid of.
The police inserted themselves between the crowd and me, brandishing short swords and batons. It killed me not to look over my shoulder as I ascended the wide staircase, but I forced myself to remain tall and face forward, as though I trusted the police to protect me.
“Wow.” Connor brushed my hand as we climbed the last stairs. “They really don’t like you.”
“They’re punishing me for the Inundation.”
“But you didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
I squeezed his hand. “My intentions of learning about Mirror Lake were noble, but my choices in the wraithland were unwise. My choices led to the Inundation. I didn’t want people to get hurt, but they did anyway.”
And now the wraith was closer than ever. Already in the Indigo Kingdom.
“You could tell them what happened?”
“I think that would make it worse.” I shushed more questions. This wasn’t the time.
Though the cathedral was massive, there was but one door in the front, and it was tall and narrow—so narrow we had to enter in single file. Every sound from the outside became muffled as soon as I crossed the threshold. The entrance hall was just as majestic as the exterior, with gilt friezes and marble statues of unnaturally tall saints; they rose up the walls, praying over the people passing beneath them.
Small alcoves and drops of shadow hung to the sides, but a silver light shone ahead, keeping my attention as I led the others. The Ospreys’ gasps and exclamations of awe were music nipping at my heels.
At the end of the hall, a white-robed figure ushered us around a corner, where others waited to direct us into the sanctuary in the center of the building.
An immense chamber opened before me, lit by great chandeliers. Hundreds of benches sat in rows on the main floor, with thousands more in tiers along the sides and on balconies. Columns created aisles down several series of steps with long landings, all leading to a dais in the center. There was nothing on it but a shallow pool guarded by a low, gold rail.
The benches in the front were already filled with the king’s family and closest companions. The queen stood near the dais, statuesque in her floor-length gown. Nearby, Tobiah held his hands behind his back and his shoulders squared. Dark hair hid his downturned eyes as he spoke with Lady Meredith, though whatever they said was too soft and obscured to hear over the echoing footfalls and other voices.
She reached for his hands in a comforting gesture that seemed to have little effect. The king was dead. His father was dead. And tonight there would be no forgetting it.
I was halfway down the stairs when Tobiah glanced up and found me watching him. Even from this distance I couldn’t miss the naked ache in his gaze. Not a crown prince. Not a vigilante. Just a boy who’d lost his father and might face the rest of his life in a spiral of questions: What if he’d been there? What if they hadn’t argued that night? What if . . .
Our gazes held for another moment before Meredith twisted in her seat to see what had distracted him. My name took shape on her lips.
Another face turned up, this one with a scowl. Lady Chey said something, drawing Tobiah’s and Meredith’s attention.
Theresa leaned close and kept her voice low as we continued down the stairs. “What was that?”
“You know all about Chey,” I said, but we both knew she hadn’t meant Chey. People didn’t share long looks with princes they’d written—at length—about hating.
A minute later, I took my seat in the second row, right behind the duchess and countess. Chey turned her head just enough to show me her profile as she muttered to Meredith, “Don’t you think it odd they were invited here, considering it was an Aecorian under Wilhelmina’s command behind King Terrell’s murder?”